


A Viper in the Pit

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Protective Arthur, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: Prompt fill for taylortut: " possibly: merlin working through a bad headache (and being allowed to sleep it off)"
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 203





	A Viper in the Pit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taylor_tut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/gifts).



Merlin tilts his face away from the setting sun as he sweeps the barn. The horses have been fed and Merlin listens to them make their way through the soft straw, their teeth crunching down on soft fibers, then chewing. The smell in the barn is almost overwhelming, a musty mix of horse dander, manure, and dust. His head gives another feeble attempt to stop him--a band of pain wrapping around his head like a snake, the head a viper’s mouth in the middle of his right eye. Pausing for a moment, he breathes, ignoring the way the dust of the barn settles in his mouth and makes his tongue heavy with tangy muck, and waits for the snake to curl back up, it’ll strike again later he knows but he’s got a job to do and Merlin’s never backed down from a little pain before. 

One of the horses takes an abrupt step back and the collision of the horse’s hooves against the barn floor almost sends Merlin to his knees. As it is, he leans heavily on his broom and turns to face the intruder. The blazing sun burns right through him, the snake wide-mouthed and hissing in his head. Involuntarily he whimpers and the figure approaches, hands on their hips. 

Soon enough Merlin can make out the golden-tipped head of Arthur, whose body is shrouded in shadow, backlight by a ruby and topaz sun. “There you are,” Arthur says, near exasperation but warm enough for Merlin to know he’s not actually in trouble. 

Merlin raises his broom and shrugs, ignoring how his brain seems to slosh out of his ears onto his shoulders. “The stable needed sweeping.”

Arthur puts his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels. These moments happen a lot with Arthur, quiet lulls in conversation where Arthur doesn’t know how to talk without a command coming out of his mouth. He’s out of insults too, Merlin knows, because Arthur isn’t even managing a quip. 

He stares at the prince for a moment longer, until the light becomes too much and then he tilts his head down so that his chin is resting against the cool wood of the broom. He’s still got half the barn to go, but he’s tired and so he straightens, feeling the light breath of Arthur hovering a metre away. “Will you be training in the morning?”

“Training?” Arthur muses at the sudden interruption in the summer stillness. Faraway, Merlin can make out the cricket’s dusk lullaby. “Oh, yes.”

Merlin nods, adding another task to his list for tonight. Polish the armor, get it ready for the morning, wake early enough to shuffle the knights out into the courtyard for practice. 

Arthur claps a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and he spins around, losing his grip on the broom so that it clatters on the floor. He’s rarely startled, almost never by Arthur, but the pain is dulling his senses and he’d lost track of Arthur’s position. Arthur who is watching in morbid fascination as Merlin loses the battle with his brain and collapses to his knees, hands curling in the dirt and straw as his stomach lurches. He lets out a pitiful moan and Arthur hits the ground next to him. 

“Merlin? Shall I fetch Gaius?”

“No,” Merlin moans, pressing his palm into his right eye and rubbing it. Trying to press the snake head out, squeeze it free of venom. “Just, my head hurts.”

“Your head?” Arthur says, almost comedically concerned before pulling at Merlin’s chin and tapping his cheek until Merlin opens his eyes. “Did you hit it?”

Merlin tries to shake his head but Arthur’s grip is steady, “No,” he says, and pull away to lean back on his hands. “Regular headache, I think. No mischief attached.”

“You without mischief?” Arthur says wryly, but his posture softens. He looks around the barn, noting like Merlin did not too long ago that Merlin is only half done. His eyes turn hard then like he’s made a decision, and Arthur stands, pulling Merlin up with him. 

Merlin sways, quite uncoordinated, and Arthur keeps a hand wrapped around his arm, even as he leans over to grab the broom and rest it against the stable doors. “I need that,” Merlin moans with little urgency. 

Arthur just shrugs. “There are twelve servants on my father’s staff, I’m sure each and every one of them know how to sweep a barn.”

Merlin smiles, grateful, and Arthur brushes away the acknowledgment. They make their way to Gaius’ quarters and Merlin takes his boots off the second they’ve made it into the living room. Gaius looks up from his experiments, eyes turning dark with concern. He bows his head and greets Arthur with a “Sire”. Merlin grunts and makes his way back to his room, collapsing onto the bed and pressing his face into the cool pillows. 

The next morning, Merlin wakes to the sun high in the sky, and a note stuck to his forehead. 

_Got George to take over training, try and make it to lunch on time. Sincerely, Sir Arthur Pendragon_


End file.
